


A Miracle (Or Three)

by Siver



Category: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective
Genre: Fluff, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27170521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siver/pseuds/Siver
Summary: Really, getting him to stay still would have been enough on its own. The rest is bonus
Relationships: Alma/Cabanela/Jowd (Ghost Trick)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10
Collections: Trick or Treat Exchange 2020





	A Miracle (Or Three)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [laughingpineapple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughingpineapple/gifts).



Jowd frowned thoughtfully at the blank canvas then at Cabanela lounging on the sofa. They were almost there, but it wasn’t, _he_ wasn’t quite right. There was still a tension threading through him—that coiled up fire of a point to prove that Jowd had to admit was an excellent sight in its own right—however not what he was after here.

He set aside the brush and approached Cabanela, whose eyes followed, though to his credit he remained unmoving. Jowd caught his chin, tilted it up and bent over to kiss him while pushing him deeper into the cushions. Cabanela’s breath hitched. He lifted a hand. Jowd caught it and put it back into position. Then he broke the kiss, straightened Cabanela’s shirt collar, let his fingers linger over his chest for a moment, and stood back to observe his handiwork.

“Better.”

Cabanela started to lift his head, mouth opening to say something. Jowd held up a warning hand. He sunk back into the cushions, but still started to speak.

“So that was just—.”

“Ah.”

“You cheeeat—.”

“Are you forfeiting?”

He stilled, but the look he shot Jowd promised there would be payment for this. Jowd returned to the canvas with a smile; he looked forward to it. He took in the sight before lifting his brush. Despite the previous glares Cabanela was more relaxed now, draped elegantly across the sofa, the angles of those shoulders framed neatly by the previously arranged cushions, and the smile his kiss had left still lit his face. Perfect and Jowd set to work.

This was so much easier, he found himself musing as he worked. He’d sketched out Cabanela a few times before, but the last time he’d really painted him… Well, there was no comparison between the warm sight before him and the lone attempts at capturing a memory. Then again, he found himself thinking as his thoughts shuffled through that particular comparison and lingered on the kiss he’d never have dreamed of back then, _everything_ had gotten so much easier.

And then he found himself pausing his work again as he absorbed what he was seeing and cursed himself for his planned simplicity. Of course getting Cabanela to stay still this long was a feat in itself, never mind multiple sessions, but now… Now, sunlight streamed through the window, playing over Cabanela, warming his skin and seeming to bathe him in golden radiance. He was beautiful and Jowd would never be able to capture this in time for anything more complex anyway, but he would have to work quickly to catch what he could now.

And he did work quickly with an energy he wasn’t entirely used to—maybe going by some intuition as Cabanela might say if he was allowed to speak yet (technically he could get away with it now, but ever the perfectionist, that one)—and the time seemed to fly by until Jowd set down his brush at last and stood back.

Maybe it lacked the polish it might have had given more time, but there was a vibrancy here he knew he never would have been able to capture otherwise and more than anything _that_ was Cabanela. He sighed, one of satisfaction and pleasure in a job well done.

“Well, that’s that,” he said.

Cabanela gave a languid stretch as if the sofa had any space left for those long limbs. Jowd couldn’t stop himself watching those legs lift, cross in some sort of one-two step, and flow to the floor propelling the rest of him to his feet, all in one smooth motion like a small dance in itself, and not an ounce of stiffness seemed present despite the prolonged stillness.

Cabanela waltzed over and stood back, hand on hip as he surveyed the painting.

“Well?” Jowd asked.

Fingers laced into his. Cabanela’s hand tangled into his beard as he leaned over. He kissed the corner of Jowd’s mouth before murmuring into his ear. “Looks like I won twiiice, baby.” Then he broke away, fingers lingering for a little longer before he whirled out of the room.

Later…

Jowd sat at the kitchen table with a coffee when Alma entered. She stifled a yawn and went straight for the coffeepot, poured herself a mug and turned to lean against the counter with a relieved sigh.

“Busy day?” Jowd asked.

“Very. It went well, but I am glad to be home. Was Kamila okay when you dropped her off?”

“Thrilled. Picking her up tomorrow may be the problem.”

Alma smiled. “Good. So…? Who’s picking dinner tonight?”

“I got him,” Jowd said with a small sip of coffee.

“No. Really?”

He nodded toward the living room. “See for yourself.” And followed Alma out of the kitchen.

“Oh,” Alma’s eyes widened at the sight of the canvas. “Wow. Jowd, this is beautiful.” She grinned, eyes sparkling. “But then I suppose with such a subject it’d be hard not to be.”

“I did have the advantage. And incentive.”

She passed a dramatic hand over her brow with a laden sigh. “Yes, then I suppose I’d better call the Chicken Kitchen? And warn Cabanela about who’s choosing tonight’s movie. Where is he anyway?”

“He had to run an errand. He’ll be back soon.”

“Which could mean anything from picking up wine to solving a case.”

“Or both.”

“Or both,” Alma repeated. “Still, I’m a bit surprised you held him so long.”

Jowd shrugged. “He’s competitive.”

“Wait. Then you…” Her eyes narrowed. “You assured yourself a victory either way.”

Jowd only smiled. Alma caught him up in a kiss and muttered a ‘sneak’ against his lips, but the shared sparkle of mischief danced in her eyes as she parted and left to go to the phone.

Jowd stared at the painting. So he’d lost one bet to win another, yet it seemed to him as he thought back over the hours spent with Cabanela and stared at the result of those, and gave all due consideration to the evening to come once their White Coat returned, that while Cabanela claimed two victories, Jowd could hardly say he held a loss.

“Sorry, partner, seems like another tie to me.”

And in this particular case, competitive or not, he couldn’t imagine either of them would want it any other way.


End file.
